The Painful Truth
by DragonFang2011
Summary: It was twenty years after the fall of Nemesis. But Yumiko's parents "forgot" to tell her a little something about her father's past. It's amazing, what truth can do to a person. Total OOCness. Sequel coming soon, maybe in a month or so.
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER:**

I don't own Beyblade: Metal Fight.

* * *

><p>I was sitting on my blue waterbed, wiping down my hair with my towel and only wearing my fluffy white bathrobe, when my little brother, Isamu, burst into my bedroom, already dressed in his yellow T-shirt, brown shorts, and red trainers. His oversized blue baseball cap was placed sideways on his head, as always.<p>

"Happy Birthday, Yumiko!" he screeched, jumping onto my bed.

"Isamu!" I yelled. "You know that you can't jump on my bed; you'll break it!" I lifted him off my mattress and set him on the carpeted floor.

My brother pouted. "AWWWW! But it's so fun!" He started to get onto the bed again.

"MOM!" I screamed. "Isamu's bothering me!" I scowled maliciously at my younger brother, who was staring at me innocently with wide violet eyes as he nibbled on the head of his stuffed cat.

I heard loud footsteps pounding up the staircase. My mother - Hikaru Hasama - burst in, her sky-blue locks still damp. She was wielding her comb in her right hand, hairdryer in right. She stuffed the comb into her jeans pocket and set the hairdryer onto my dresser. Her eyes - dark purple, like Isamu's - shined in the sunlight that filtered through the beaded curtains of my room.

"Yumiko," she said, gently prying the toy out of Isamu's hands. "Give him a break; he's only five."

Isamu nodded under his baseball cap and stuck his tongue out at me. I growled and bared my teeth at him. "There's no reason for him to barge in here while I'm getting dressed!" I hissed.

My mom sighed and sent me a somehow-affectionate glance. "You remind me so much of your father, Yumiko; you both have _major_ anger issues. Of course, he could control his temper better than you could."

"Anger WHAT?" What the hell was _that_ supposed to mean? I've met my dad; he's a nutcase. Not that that's a bad thing. He's actually kind of fun._ And we're supposed to meet him today; after all, it _is_ my thirteenth birthday._

"Anger tissues," Isamu said, probably trying to be helpful.

I whirled around to face him. I bet that my amber eyes were blazing like twin infernos. "I KNOW WHAT SHE SAID! AND BY THE WAY, IT'S 'ANGER _ISSUES_, stupid!'"

My brother shrank back to hide behind our mother's leg. "Y-Yumiko's being mean."

"Yumiko, seriously?" Mom snapped. "Can't there be a single day when you _don't_ try to pick a fight with Isamu?"

"Yeaaaah!" Isamu said, sending me a triumphant glance. _The little pest's always trying to annoy me._

"Brat," I muttered under my breath.

"Mommy!" the so-called "brat" yowled. "Yumiko called me a... a... B-R-A-T!" He smiled proudly and turned his gaze to our mom, the golden flecks in his eyes standing out vividly as it contrasted with dark amethyst. "Did I spell it right?"

Mom grinned and put a hand on Isamu's head, making the cap cover his eyes. "Very good. Remind me to buy you lots of ice-cream later, 'kay?"

"MOM, QUIT SPOILING HIM!" I put on a horrified expression as Isamu clapped enthusiastically and dashed out of the room, his fist in the air. His joyful whoops echoed through the hallway.

"What?" Mom smiled softly. "He's cute!"

I gritted my teeth. I was really tired of her constantly babying him! "Never mind," I huffed, tugging at the wet sheet of sky-blue hair that hung over my right eye. "Just go away and let me enjoy a few moments of peace on my birthday."

She shrugged, picked up her hairdryer, and ran into the hallway, closing the door on her way out. "Call me if you need anything!"

I pulled on my purple tank top and faded blue jeans that were ripped to end at my knees, as well as my black fingerless gloves, and the silver locket that my parents had given to me when I was a baby.

After blow-drying my hair, I tied it into the usual ponytail with a purple scrunchie and exited my bedroom.

I descended the stairs to the living room and sat on the couch next to Isamu, who was (thankfully) sucking on a grape-flavored lollipop, and waited.

We didn't have to wait long for Mom to race down the stairs, scrambling to put on her Beyblade equipment. She had her phone grasped in her hand. It sounded like Dad was trying to tell her to calm down; not that it was working.

Mom sat down on the floor and started to put on her shoes, yelling at her cell phone, which was on the floor next to her. "I'm so sorry if we're late, sweetie! We'll be right out! 'Kay? You just wait!"

_She panicks about the weirdest things..._

"Um, love..." my father began uneasily. I could imagine a deadpanned expression on his face, and a gigantic sweatdrop on the side of his head, like in those TV shows. "... It's only a minute after twelve..."

My mother froze and her eyes flickered to her phone. "Oh." She grinned, looking embarrassed. A blush spread across her tanned face. "Sorry. I was just so excited; I... We don't get to see you that often."

Dad laughed. I like his laugh; it's kind of melodic, and a little insane. Mom always told me that I inherited my laugh from Dad, which didn't make much sense. I thought that my laugh sounded _horrible_, compared to his.

"I know, but there's no need to get so worked up about it, Hikaru," he said. "I'm not even there yet."

Mom sighed and picked up the phone, putting a hand on her hip. "I'm almost afraid to ask, but... Honey, where the hell are you?" Her voice was deadly calm, and a little teasing. All the same, I could sense the love behind it.

My father chuckled again, this time sheepishly. I could picture him rubbing the back of his neck, like he always does whenever he gets embarrassed. "Africa."

"WHAT?" I could've sworn that my Mom was spitting flames, and once again, a mental image of my dad popped up in my mind - this time holding the phone away from his ear as imaginary wind coming from the phone whistled through his spiky hair. I smirked a little.

"I'll put you on hold for now," he said. The phone went quiet.

"WHAT?" Mom repeated shrilly.

"And you say that _I_ have anger issues," I snickered.

Mom whipped around. "Take that back!"

"No."

"Hey; is the birthday girl there?" Dad asked. _He's back._

My mom handed the phone to me. "Yup; she's right here."

"Hi, Dad!" I chirped.

"How's my little girl?"

I laughed, even though in my mind, I was screaming, _DAD!_ "I'll let that one slip," I said, giggling.

"Heh. Lucky me," he replied dryly.

"Anyway, I'm fine; how're things in Africa?"

There was a long pause. I heard a rustling noise in the background and picked up an "Uh-oh." _Oh boy_. Then, Dad spoke up again. "Yeah... I'm not in Africa anymore..." _There he goes; sounding embarrassed again. What in the name of Beyblade did he do this time?_

Mom and I sighed. "Then where are you?" we chorused.

"China."

"DAD!" I slapped my forehead in exasperation.

My mother was banging her own head on the TV screen. "Ugh! The nerve of that guy! How dare he! It's his daughter's birthday, for crying out loud!"

"I'm still here," Dad reminded her.

"WHY DO YOU THINK I'M SAYING IT?" she snapped.

No response.

I looked at the phone, read the notice on the screen, and opened my mouth to say something. But Mom beat me to it, since she was literally staring at the cell phone over my shoulder. "HE HUNG UP?"

"I wanted to talk to Daddy!" Isamu pouted in disappointment.

"Then why didn't you ask?" I scoffed.

"'Cause I wasn't done with my lollipop yet."

Someone knocked on the door. Mom sighed and trudged towards it, grabbing the doorknob and turning it.

He looked the same as always - white tank top, unbuttoned white shirt over it, jeans, and brown boots. His white hair - streaked with red on the left fringe - was loose and hanging around his face. A red bracelet was fastened around his right wrist; Mom had told me that she had given it to him when they were little kids. Imagining my parents as little kids felt kind of alien.

_But they sure act like little kids sometimes_, I thought.

"Hikaru."

"Ryuga!"

And just like that, my parents were engaged in a make-out session.

_Ew. Isn't this like, PG-13?_ I thought. _Oh, wait; I _am_ 13. Ha!_

Isamu was watching them smooch with wide eyes, and I yanked the brim of his cap over his face. He didn't protest.

My mom pulled away slowly, putting both hands on my father's chest. I could tell that she was trying not to scream at him. "Did you go to Africa and China just to annoy me?" she demanded, pinning him to the closed door.

He smirked, amber eyes (that looked so amazingly like mine) glittering in amusement. "I didn't go at all; I was just standing here the whole time."

"Wha - RYUGA!" Mom roared.

I grinned.

"DADDY!" Isamu jumped, his arms reaching up, eyes begging to be carried. He barely reached our father's hips, which was a bittersweet surprise. I always imagined him to be a tall kid, like my father was. His hat fell off, letting his unruly, spiky white and red hair (identical to our dad's) spring up. He looks so much like Dad that anyone with half a brain could tell.

Dad's mouth curved into a smile, showing off his sharp canine teeth, which I had also inherited from him. He picked up my brother and cradled him on his left arm, then stretched his free hand out to me. I eagerly leaped into his warm embrace.

"Happy birthday, Yumiko," he said.

"I'm so glad you came!" I blurted out.

"What - you thought I wasn't gonna come?" His yellow eyes were full of hurt, and he looked like Isamu whenever he was about to cry. "You... You think that I'm a terrible father?" He raised a hand to his face to wipe off a tear.

"N-No!" I sputtered. "That's not it at all!" _This is just weird._

Dad grinned. "I'm just messing with you, Yumi."

"Hey!" I punched his arm.

Isamu was yanking on one of the red and white strands of Dad's hair, making the poor guy wince. Dad reached up and grasped Isamu's hand. "Oi; that hurts, Isamu."

"Yeah, Isamu," I echoed. "Quit it."

Dad put a hand on my head.

Mom glared at me. "Yumiko..." she said warningly. I rolled my eyes, sensing a lecture coming on, and waved my hand at her. "Yeah, yeah; I know the drill. No picking on the little punk." Mom turned to my brother, who was pouting once again. "Why are you doing that?"

"It's colorful." Isamu stared at us as if it were that obvious.

"Why don't you go do us a favor and pull your own hair, then?" I mumbled.

"UWAAAAAH! DADDY; YUMIKO'S BEING MEAN!" he screamed. _He's being extra-irritating 'cause Dad's here!_ I fumed.

Dad grimaced. "I think you killed my ear."

"Sorry." Isamu gave our parents his puppy-dog face, his jewel-like eyes sparkling like pools of colored water. Of course, they fell for it. _Gosh; he's annoying!_ I wondered how Mom and Dad were still smiling. Because I sure wasn't!

"Where are we going today?" I asked them hopefully. I was already standing on the front porch steps.

Dad's face was a blank. "Huh?"

Mom smacked him upside the head. "Idiot; you didn't think this through, didn't you?"

"Uh... well, you see; funny story..."

Mom sighed. "You know what; I don't want to hear it." Dad opened his mouth, probably to protest. "Just... don't." She grabbed his hand, pecked him on the lips (making Isamu yelp, "BLECH!") and led him out the door.

Dad hesitated at the top of the stairs, looking nervous. _About what?_

Mom gave his hand a gentle tug and he went all the way to the sidewalk. If possible, he looked even more panicked.

But we made it to the amusement park without incident.


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER:**

I don't own Beyblade: Metal Fight.

* * *

><p>"Oo-oo-oo! Let's go on that one!" Believe it or not, it was Dad who said it. He was pointing at a very tall, very scary-looking roller coaster, complete with loops and twisting tracks, and cars made to look like black missiles. It was called Final Adrenaline.<p>

Told you he was a nutcase...

"We just walked in!" Mom said.

"But... but... I never went to an amusement park before!" he whined.

I snorted. "Dad, you're acting like Isamu."

Speaking of Isamu, he was tugging at Dad's hair. "Want ice-cream!" he shrieked. Dad sighed, handed the guy some money, and let Isamu take the chocolate ice-cream. He also bought some vanilla ice-cream for Mom, and I think he was about to buy another one for himself, but Mom said, "I'll share with you." I had a feeling that this wasn't going to be a fun party for Isamu.

I didn't think about it that much because I was too busy stuffing barbeque-flavored potato chips into my mouth, which, by the way, were delicious, like any old potato chips.

"Thanks," Dad told the ice-cream dude, who dipped his head. Then, Isamu begged for cotton candy, so he bought that too.

"If he goes on sugar-high for the day, I'm gonna kill you," Mom said, licking her vanilla ice-cream. "And I'll probably never, _ever _marry you." She smirked and kissed him.

Yeah; it's weird, huh? My parents weren't married. It's kind of sad...

Please, don't judge me. I really am sad.

Dad pulled away, pouting playfully. "Meh. Meanie old lady."

Mom twisted his ear.

"OW OW OW!" Laughing, Dad pried my mother's vise-like grip from his ear, which was an amusing shade of red.

After throwing away my chips, I strolled lazily towards Final Adrenaline, planning to save a spot for myself and the rest of the doofuses. I glanced back and spotted my parents making goo-goo eyes at each other, as Isamu oh-so-desperately tried to get off Dad's shoulders by jumping onto the roof of an ice-cream cart. Well, he failed, since Dad was holding his legs for support. _Am I the only mature person in my whole family?_ I asked myself.

My father leaned over to lick a drop of ice-cream off my mother's cheek before slurping another sliver off the cone. Isamu stuck his tongue out in disgust and closed his eyes, turning away from the happy couple. I smirked, amused by that scene. How I wished that I had a camera at that time...

My thoughts were interrupted when I bumped into someone. _And_ fell on my butt.

"Sorry!" the stranger yelped. "Are you okay?" He reached out a hand to me.

I examined him. He had a mop of maroon-red hair that gleamed like copper in the sunlight. His clothes included a red T-shirt, a partly-zipped-up blue hoodie, black jeans, and black combat boots. His hands were clothed in red fingerless gloves, and he already had Beyblade equipment, unlike me.

But his most striking feature was his eyes; startingly a beautiful, deep ocean-blue. They made my heart race insanely.

_Did I just fall onto my butt in front of this mega-hot guy?_ I wasn't the boy-crazy type, but he was just... _wow_. I suddenly felt self-conscious.

I accepted his hand, trying to cover up a blush. "I... I should've watched where I was going," I stammered.

"No need to apologize." He smiled at me sheepishly with perfect white teeth. "I was distracted too. Where are you going? To Final Adrenaline?" He gestured to the roller coaster. "I just went on it with my dad and his friends. It was pretty epic."

"Uh... um..." Suddenly, I was a loss for words. My mind was a blank space. "I had pancakes for breakfast," I blurted out. My blush deepened.

He just laughed. _Is he making fun of me?_

Surprisingly, his grin widened. "You're kidding! Me too! My mom's pancakes are the best!"

I felt my blush slowly slipping away as I started to get more comfortable talking to the guy. "My mom's usually too busy to make any, so I make them myself. For my brother Isamu, and me."

"_My_ mom never allows me or my dad into the kitchen," he said. "She says that all we do is eat, and we don't know how to cook! But I guess that's true. Sometimes, Dad and I plan kitchen raids in the middle of the night, while Mom's asleep."

I giggled. "_Really_?"

The guy nodded. "Yup. But I guess it's kind of noticeable when half the food in the fridge is gone the next morning... Anyway, what's your name?"

"Yumiko Hasama," I immediately answered. "Today's my thirteenth birthday."

"Happy birthday, Yumiko," he said. "You know, I just turned thirteen last month."

"So you did, huh?"

He hesitated. "Yeah. I'm from the mountains. Name's Haruki Hagane."

_Hagane..._ "No way!" I gasped. "Gingka's your dad?" I was crushing on Gingka Hagane's son?

Haruki looked disappointed. "Yeah... my dad's pretty popular, huh?" he muttered glumly.

"My mom used to be friends with him!" I said. "Her name's Hikaru Hasama!"

He seemed relieved. I realized that he wanted to be friends with someone who liked him for who he was, not for who his dad is. I found that kind of... cute? I have no words to describe it. Then, my happiness quickly evaporated at Haruki's next words. "Hikaru? The one who lost her Blader's Spirit?"

_What?_ I felt a surge of anger and frustration boil inside of me. "What's that supposed to mean? Is that who all people see in my mother? 'The one who lost her Blader's Spirit?'" _Is that all they talk about behind her back?_

Haruki's eyes widened. "S-Sorry! I didn't mean to...!"

"Hey, son!" A red-haired man who looked a lot like Haruki appeared beside him. "What's up?" _The blue Pegasus headband... he's Gingka Hagane - Pegasus' owner,_ I thought. And the brunette who appeared next to him was Madoka Amano, the Bey mechanic, with eyes that were identical to Haruki's, except for the shape.

"Mom, Dad; this is Yumiko," Haruki told them. "Hikaru Hasama's daughter."

"Hikaru's daughter, huh?" Gingka and Madoka each shook my hand. "Nice to meet you!" Madoka beamed. "How's your mother? I haven't heard from her in like, twenty years! I can't believe how much I've missed!"

I grinned. "She's fine! My dad talked her back into blading!"

"That's great!"

"Gingka?"

I turned around. Mom was holding a strawberry-banana smoothie in one hand, and grasping Dad's arm. Isamu must've finished his ice-cream (or dropped it on the ground), because he was sitting on Dad's shoulders, licking up his cotton candy. I just hoped that we were going to the beach, because I was worried that he'd get our father's hair sticky.

My dad was staring at Haruki's parents, yellow eyes signaling irritation. "Gingka Hagane." His voice contained mixed emotions - uncertainty, hostility.

"Ryuga." Gingka's voice seemed to hold the same feelings.

I gaped, open-mouthed. "You two know each other?"

Gingka nodded, too intent on winning a glaring contest with Dad.

"How do you know him?" Haruki asked me.

"Ryuga's my dad!" I exclaimed.

Gingka broke his gaze. "What? He can't be...!"

"But... your mom's Hikaru!" Madoka said, aghast.

"Yeah. My mom's Hikaru, and my dad's Ryuga. They're _together_." _Dummies._

"Bu... But that's impossible!" Gingka snapped. "Hikaru, you're _terrified_ of him!"

Mom sighed. "It's been twenty years, Gingka. Things change." I could tell that she didn't really like having this conversation. And what was that about Mom being scared of Dad? She loves the guy!

Huh. And I've always thought that it was _Mom_ who scared _Dad_.

"We're happy together," my mother pointed out. "I'll even prove it!" she added all-too-eagerly, and started kissing Dad.

"That's... weird," Madoka said. "But congratulations! I'm so happy for both of you."

Of course, my parents didn't pay attention.

Isamu was _begging_ me with his puppy-dog eyes to take him away. Since I felt so sorry for him, I sighed and lifted him off Dad's shoulders, who didn't even acknowledge us.

"Mom," I said through gritted teeth. "Dad. Please, no kissing in public. You're embarrassing me!"

"This'll look great on my Facebook page!" Madoka squealed, staring at the picture on her phone.

My mother and father rolled their eyes.

Suddenly, a dude with shaggy green hair and big brown eyes popped up behind Gingka. He was followed by a big guy with dark purple hair underneath a white and red beanie, and a tall man with spiky dark green hair and blue eyes.

"Ryuga?"

It was strange, how the three of them said it at the same time.

_Oh, _now_ I recognize them! Brown-Eyes is Kenta Yumiya, the one with purple hair is Benkei Hanawa, and the scary guy with the fang poking out of his mouth is Kyoya Tategami!_

My heart almost stopped. _I'm standing in front of the greatest bladers in the country! Not counting my dad._

Then, Kenta grinned and tackled my dad. "RYUGA!"

"Hi," he managed to choke out.

"Kenta," Benkei said in concern. "He's turning purple..."

"Sorry!" Kenta let go. "Ryuga, we thought you were dead. I mean, seriously; it's been... such a long time. Haven't heard a word from you since the rise of Nemesis." He grabbed my father's nose and started to move his head up and down. Dad frowned.

"Stop that."

Kenta held up his hands teasingly, smiling. "Just making sure you were real."

"Well," Dad began. "You hugged me, and I almost stopped breathing, so yeah - I think I'm real."

"Why didn't you tell us that youu were... I don't know... ALIVE?" Benkei yelled.

My dad snorted. "Didn't feel like it."

"WHAT? How could you just..."

Kyoya snickered (which was the first sound he had made in that meeting), focused intently on his phone. "Ryuga and Hikaru?" He raised an eyebrow and smirked at my mother and father. Benkei and Kenta looked over his shoulder and their jaws dropped until I was sure that they would fall off. "_No_...!" they gasped.

"Believe it, boys," Madoka said.

Benkei shook his head. "I find it hard to do so."

"Yeah," Gingka agreed. "I mean, well... it's _Ryuga_..."

"Oh," Dad growled. "You don't think I could love someone?"

"That's not what I meant!" Gingka Hagane seemed to shrink under my father's gaze.

Then, they perked up like they were old buddies sharing a joke. My father held up his Beyblade - L-Drago Guardian S130MB. "Wanna battle?"

Gingka smirked. "You got it."

In a flash of red lightning, they were gone. Well, Gingka and Dad were; the rest of us, including Kenta, Benkei, and yes, Kyoya, were left behind.

"Where...?" Mom shook her head. "Never mind."

Madoka looked slightly mystified, one hand on the laptop on her belt. "I'll never figure out how he does that."

"_I'll_ never figure out how they switched to another subject so quickly," Mom scoffed, slurping her smoothie vigorously as Isamu dripped chocolate ice-cream onto her foot. "I guess it's true, then - men _do_ have the attention spans of goldfish."

"HEY!" Kenta and Benkei snapped.

"I wanted to come with them..." Kyoya muttered under his breath.

"Never mind that!" Haruki put in. "Let's go on Final Adrenaline!" He grabbed my hand; I just hoped that he didn't notice my blush.

One thing was for sure, though - my mother saw it. She raised a blue eyebrow critically and gave Haruki a severely cold glare (her eyes added to the intensity). He slowly stepped away from me, putting some distance between us.

Mom nodded in approval, and Haruki sent her a nervous thumbs-up.

_MO-THERRRR!_ I wanted to whine and pretty much throw a tantrum. Here was my first crush and she was already scaring him. Seriously, I think the guy was about to pee his pants. My mother had him cornered against a booth, growling at him.

Suddenly, a huge explosion lit up the sky ahead of us.

The adults sighed.

"Let's ignore them," Madoka suggested.

We all agreed.


	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER:**

I don't own Beyblade: Metal Fight.

* * *

><p>We were just heading back to the city that afternoon, when disaster struck.<p>

Once again, Dad looked anxious, as if he wanted to just run home and lock the door behind him. That wasn't the disaster.

"I feel like I'm gonna throw up!" he groaned. That's not the disaster either.

I smirked. "I told you you shouldn't have eaten that hot dog before going on Final Adrenaline. But did you listen to me? _No_." He scowled at me. "Battling with my greatest rival makes me hungry," he grumbled, clutching his stomach. "_And_... I don't take orders from girls twenty-five years younger than me."

I rolled my eyes in exasperation. "You didn't need to tell me your age."

"Shut up."

"Is that any way to set an example for your daughter?" Mom asked him.

"Daddy runs _so_ fast," Isamu said in amazement and admiration. Dad grinned, until Mom put in (with her baby voice), "Daddy does run fast, doesn't he?" She smiled slyly. "And that's only because he had to throw up in the potty real bad."

Isamu and I laughed.

My father made a face. "It wasn't pretty."

But Mom continued. "You should see him running after me when he gets horny."

"Oi!"

"What's horny?"

"You're too young!" I snapped.

Isamu looked confused. "Too young for what?"

"Nev-"

"Hello there!"

A couple of blond-haired men were standing in front of us. They looked so much like each other that they were probably brothers... _twins_. One in red, the other in blue. Like the Beyblade Gemios - fire and ice. "Wanna Beybattle us?" the red-clad one asked.

Dad narrowed his eyes. "Sorry; no thanks," he said. His voice was strained as if he was trying really hard to be polite. My mother glared at the strangers warily.

"It's Yumiko's birthday!" Isamu chirped, grinning cutely (or stupidly - whichever one you prefer). Mom immediately put her hands on my shoulders and drew me closer to her protectively. _Are these bad people?_ I wanted to ask, but that would sound stupid and childish - like something Isamu would ask; and Isamu is stupid. It was pretty obvious that the two dudes were up to no good.

The twins examined us, smirking as they took in our features. Their gazes especially lingered on Isamu.

"These your kids, Ryuga?" The one in blue cocked his head to the side arrogantly. I decided that I didn't like them. Isamu seemed to agree with me for once, for now he was also glaring. His grip on Dad's shirt tightened.

"What of it?" my father snapped back coldly.

The blue one snorted. "Just wondering; geez, Ryuga, can't we get along?"

"No."

The twins' smiles disappeared. The man in red raised an eyebrow and turned to his brother. "Reiki, d'ya think that the new generation will be as horrible and power-hungry as their father?"

"Maybe," the blue one - Reiki - said.

A low growl rumbled in Dad's throat.

My mother stepped forward, a hand on her launcher. "They won't." She gazed back at us. "We raised them right. Now leave us alone!"

I frowned. _"Horrible and power-hungry as their father?"_

_"Raised them right?"_ I flashed an uneasy glance at Dad, who looked like he wanted to jump on the twins and beat them up.

"So... you guys are together?" Dan smirked, but his eyes betrayed confusion, and his brow crinkled in thought. "Interesting. Didn't expect that to happen, since he almost..." Then, a soft smile split his face - almost sympathetic. The twins' gazes flickered from me to Isamu.

"Ya know what? Never mind; we'll let their parents deal with 'em, right Dan?"

"Yeah."

"Leave!" my mother hissed.

"We're just making sure that Battle Bladers won't happen again, Hikaru," Dan said. "Right, Reiki?" Reiki nodded. "'Cause we all know how great _that_ turned out," he added.

Mom paled.

"Hold on!" I snarled. "What's this about?"

Dad carefully set Isamu on the sidewalk and pushed him behind me. He slowly reached for his Beyblade holder.

"Mom!" I hissed, unsure whether she would answer.

Guess what: she didn't.

"We don't want trouble," Dan said, holding up his hands. "But let me tell you this, kiddos," Reiki began, staring into my eyes. "Don't trust your daddy; he's bad news." He looked like he believed every single word he just uttered; and he probably did.

I wondered how much of what the twins said was true. Already, I was starting to doubt that they were bad people; they were just trying to... warn us? Protect us? Give us advice? _They don't even know us!_ I thought, growling. _But they probably care._

The twins started to walk away. "Happy birthday, Yumiko."

When they were out of sight, Mom and Dad started arguing.

"You didn't tell them yet?" It seemed like my father was trying to yank all of his hair off.

"I didn't want them to get mad at you! And I lost track of time because I was worried about how they'd react!"

"I was afraid this was going to happen! Now what do we do?"

They started to panic. Badly. And when my mom panicks, well... I would suggest stepping away from her.

"What is going on?" I yelled. The surrounding people turned their attention to us, making me blush in embarrassment, but Dad didn't seem fazed. "What're you looking at?" he screamed, and our audience scattered, staring at him in fear, others in irritation.

I was confused. "What's going on?" I repeated, more softly, more sadly. I wanted information quickly, so I was willing to play the Act-Like-Isamu Card. "Who were those guys? What did they want? Were they trying to tell us something?" Then, I glared at my father. "Who are you? Tell us the truth!"

Even Isamu seemed to have quieted down, and looked like he was on the verge of tears.

Our parents sighed. "Come on; we need to talk," Mom said. Dad was glaring into space.

"Ya think?" I grumbled.

"M-Mommy, Daddy, what's wrong? Why are they mad at you?" Isamu started crying. Dad carried him and let him cry into his shoulder.

And so, we went home.

I scowled at my parents from my seat on the couch. "What the heck is going on here?"

Dad rubbed Isamu's back, trying to get him to stop crying.

"Stop crying," he instructed.

It did nothing to help, of course. _You can't comfort a kid by being bossy and telling them to quit._ I rolled my eyes. _He knows next-to-nothing about being a parent..._

As soon as my little brother calmed down, Mom settled herself on the recliner and Dad made himself comfortable on the carpet, golden eyes staring up at us guiltily; kind of like a little kid being scolded by his parents. I think that he deliberately sat on the floor to make himself look smaller. Oh, look at that; he positioned himself next to the door, probably so he'd be able to bolt if he needed to.

"I've told you about how your father and I met," Mom began. She was telling the story; I guessed that Dad was too ashamed to do it.

Isamu and I nodded. "He was trying to smuggle food from your dad's shop," I recalled dryly.

"You make it sound like it's a bad thing!" Dad protested, hugging Isamu closer to him like he would a stuffed animal. I just love how my mind works; I could just about see rivers of anime tears running from his eyes. It was amusing, given our current situation; I needed to be cheered up. Isamu snuggled into our father's chest, seeking comfort and reassurance, as always.

"It _is_ a bad thing. Stealing is _wrong_." I shifted my voice so I sounded like I was talking to a three-year-old.

"Why does everyone say that?" he muttered. "I was trying not to die!"

Mom sighed. "Anyway," she began. All three of us turned our attentions to her. "We became really good friends, and a couple of years later, he disappeared off the face of the earth. Turns out that he was recruited-"

"Kidnapped," Dad mumbled.

"-into the Dark Nebula - an organization with ambitions to pretty much take over the world." My mother went on. She paused to give Isamu time to gape at her, unblinking. "Ryuga went with this guy named Doji to a secret village in the mountains. They stole Lightning L-Drago - a dark Beyblade with an evil power - from Mount Hagane. Ryo - Gingka's dad - tried to stop them, but he was nearly killed under all the rubble that L-Drago had dislodged in its battle with Storm Pegasus. Gingka then inherited Storm Pegasus from his father."

"So let me get this straight," I said. "L-Drago's an evil Beyblade?"

"_Was_," my mother corrected. "But not anymore."

"How did that happen?"

Dad scoffed. "Just let her finish!"

"Okay, okay; geez!" I crossed my arms and huffed.

"In stealing L-Drago, your father fell into a coma that lasted for at least a year." (A/N: At least, that's how long I imagine it is.)

Isamu's jaw dropped. "That's a long time."

"When he woke up, L-Drago was restored to full power. They battled Gingka - who was trying to stop him at the time - and won. Lightning L-Drago was a Beyblade made to drain its opponents' energy. They made preparations for Yu Tendo - a member of the Dark Nebula - to participate in the yearly Survival Battle."

"Winner gets any wish?"

"Yes. So even against Kyoya - who forfeited because his Leone was damaged - and Gingka, Yu won. He wished for Battle Bladers - a tournament that decides the strongest blader in the country. But in real life, it was made to make sure that Ryuga and L-Drago would be able to sap the stronger bladers of their strength. Qualification required fifty-thousand points."

"Wow!"

Mom grinned proudly. "I was able to enter, along with Ryuga, Gingka, Kyoya, Yu, Benkei, Kenta, Tsubasa, Tetsuya, Tobio, Ryutaro, Teru, Kamasuke, Hyoma, and Reiji. And before you say anything, no - I will not tell you about the people you don't know 'cause that would be a waste of time."

Isamu put his hand down, looking disappointed.

"I lost in the first round..."

"Who did you lose to?" I asked. I froze at the troubled look in my mother's eyes. Her gaze wavered, and she started shaking. "It... It was a horrible battle. I was knocked unconscious before I even got a chance to use my Special Move... The battle didn't even last for thirty seconds."

She burst into tears, and the truth dawned on me. Why she seemed so conflicted... the short battle... Dan and Reiki's words echoed in my mind:_ "Don't trust your daddy; he's bad news."_

_"Interesting. Didn't expect that to happen, since he almost..." _

Gingka and Madoka's confusion: _"What? He can't be...!"_

_"But... your mom's Hikaru!"_

I sent my father a shocked, furious glance and stood up. "It was _you_?" Anger and misery tumbled inside me - my face burned with rage. And he had the _nerve_ to get her pregnant? They didn't bother to _tell_ us about it? "Are you insane?" I shrieked. No wonder everyone else was so surprised; these two were supposed to hate each other!

He looked away, unable to meet my gaze. Suddenly, I felt like my birth was all just a big mistake - like I wasn't meant to be born. Isamu backed away from our parents - both of them - and into a corner of the room, shaking in fear and the gold flecks in his eyes becoming blurry as fresh tears welled up in his eyes. His frightened, multicolored gaze slid from our father, to our mother, and to me, as if unsure who to trust anymore.

_He's just a kid_, I remembered. _He's too young, and already..._ His eyes were in a wild frenzy as he tried to process the horrible, painful truth - that one of our parents had almost murdered the other... and yet... they were still together. I could almost imagine him screaming, _WHY?_

I felt like screaming too.

That fact was supposed to be amazing - that they still love each other - but our father... he nearly killed her...

"And that's why everyone was so shocked that we're together," Dad said, his voice a whisper. But the words seemed to echo loudly in the eerie silence of the room. I half-expected something to grab us and pull us into a dark abyss... it's amazing - what Truth can do.

I did the only thing I could - I yanked open the front door and emerged into the fresh air of outside; free from the tension in the house and my family. I heard my parents call out my name in frantic worry, but I stumbled down the steps to the best of my ability and ran as quickly as my legs could carry me.

I sprinted across the dimly-lit street as the large form of a truck approached; I was running too quickly - too blindly- to stop. My foot caught on a crack in the asphalt and I dropped to my knees on top of tiny pebbles. Dark red liquid seeped out of my knees, which had shards of rock sticking out of them. I stared at my blood in horror as I stood up.

"Yumiko, run!" From the corner of my eye, I spotted my father taking one step onto the street, and Mom desperately hugging Isamu to her chest, trying to cover his eyes. I was suddenly aware of my mortality, and how easily my life could be taken away... I froze, realizing that this might be the end. Isamu's scream jarred me out of my thoughts and I moved my foot to get out of the way.

Too late.

I felt my body strike metal.

The last thing I heard was my mother's shrill scream and the deafening screech of brakes.


	4. Chapter 4

**DISCLAIMER:**

I don't own Beyblade: Metal Fight.

* * *

><p>My head throbbed wildly as I struggled to regain consciousness. <em>Hurts... <em>The tiny fragments of light were distant and fuzzy, and I felt something in my arm; an IV. I was in the hospital.

I slowly flexed my stiff fingers, then my toes. There was something off, though, but I... couldn't put a finger on it.

I tried to sit up, but I didn't get very far because of my protesting limbs, which were wrapped tightly in bandages. I slowly opened heavy eyelids; the world was a swirling blur around me.

"Mommy!" a muffled voice yelped. "She's waking up!"

My vision eventually started to clear. _Isamu? Why does he... have two heads? _Then, the memories flooded back towards me; all the running, the blood, the truck... my parents' confession. My head ached more than ever, and my heart beat frantically in my chest.

I focused my unsteady, wavering gaze on my mother, whose violet eyes were frantic with worry. There were dark circles under them; did she even sleep while I was out? I blinked groggily, trying to adjust to the bright fluorescent lights. Isamu shrieked in joy and jumped up towards me, but Mom caught him and set him back on the floor.

"Isamu!" she scolded him. "Yumiko's still healing; _please_ try not to break her."

"But _Mommy_!" he whined. "I wanna hug her!"

"Hug her arm, then," Mom suggested. A millisecond later, I felt Isamu wrap his hand around my left wrist. "Yumiko," my brother mumbled into my hand. I slowly let my fingers glide to the top of his head, and I ruffled his spiky hair, feeling the silky-smooth strands glide over my skin.

Gradually, my aches and feelings of nausea faded. I examined the room carefully, noting the TV in the corner and the enormous gift basket on the nightstand piled high with cards, pastries, and fruit. _These are the good things about being in a hospital - they pamper you_, I thought humorlessly. But I still couldn't help eyeing a large blueberry muffin near the top of the heap, looking fresh and scrumptious with its dark blue-purple chunks baked into the moist-looking dough baked into a beautiful golden brown... My mouth watered as I wondered how long it has been since I'd last eaten.

"Are you feeling alright?" Mom asked me.

"Yeah." My voice was scratchy and almost inaudible from use. Mom held a glass of water to my dry lips and I drank without complaint. I looked around, confused, as I tried to get used to my weakened senses. As my earlier thoughts stated, there _was_ something horribly wrong. I looked down towards the foot of my bed and screamed.

"WHERE...!" I couldn't form any words at all, and I felt like I was going to faint.

"Yumiko, calm down!" My mother put a hand on my arm, trying to comfort me - tell me that everything was going to be alright. Trying to _lie_.

I broke down in tears. "What... what _happened_?" I wailed.

My left leg... my left leg was _gone_. Literally _gone_. I pulled up the hem of my hospital gown, not really wanting to see what was underneath it, but... I gaped. Where my leg used to be... was a stump, still covered in bandages. I rubbed the strips of fabric. _Oh, no. _Mom gently pulled me into a hug, and I didn't even care when my head started to hurt again. Isamu stood beside my bed, quietly assessing the scene. He softly put a tiny hand on my remaining leg.

_Creak_... The door opened and my father met my gaze with his yellow eyes, which had shadows under them, like Mom's. "You're awake," he said in a hollow voice. Two words - which were barely louder than a whisper - and they held so many feelings - love, grief, uncertainty, and sorrow... and even a little guilt. When I looked closer, I saw that his eyes bore a haunted look, and he looked like he hadn't shaved for a while. His clothes were tattered and dirty as if he'd gotten into several fights... or Beybattles. In his current state, he looked like he had aged ten years.

"We called an ambulance," Mom murmured.

A familiar pair of turquoise-blue eyes peered at me through the door. "Yumiko, are you... okay?" Haruki asked, coppery-red hair hanging over his face. I shook my head in frustration, tears still flowing. "N-No, you idiot! My leg's gone! WHY THE HELL WOULD I BE OKAY?"

He flinched. Dad glared at him half-heartedly. "Just go. She needs time to adjust," he said tiredly. Haruki nodded, sent me one last glance, like, "I think you're crazy now," and closed the door. The lock clicked shut. For a second, I worried that I've scared him off. Then, my current situation bubbled up again and that little problem evaporated. I started crying again.

My father stayed a good distance away from me, refusing to meet my gaze as he fidgeted uncomfortably. Mom looked from Dad to me. Her eyes watered with understanding. Then, she picked up Isamu and left the room, giving me one last, miserable stare, then softly pulled the door shut behind her.

Dad sat down at the edge of my bed and grasped my hand tightly. "I'm so sorry, Yumi," he said, massaging my palm with his thumb. I looked up at him, confused. "Why are you sorry?" I whimpered. "I'm the one who should apologize; after all, I was the one who ran in front of that truck in the first place." I clenched my fist, closing my fingers around his thumb.

"Yeah, that was pretty stupid," he told me. I said nothing, willing him to go on. "But I was the one who did those horrible things. Your mother and I - we didn't want you to find out this way." He turned away from me, as if afraid that he might cry. "So, it's my fault that you got hurt, and lost your leg."

"At least I'm still alive," I told him.

"You must think I'm a horrible person," he mumbled miserably. It was as if he was trying to ignore me. He buried his face in his arms. I heard him sniffling and noticed his body sputtering up and down. A low moan escaped his lips as he quietly cried for me - this time, for real. I felt so bad; he looked like he needed a hug.

"It's okay, Dad," I said. "I'm sure I could manage with only one leg. So stop acting like I'm gonna die!" I added fiercely. Then, a sense of dread crept over me. "I'm not gonna die, aren't I?'

He shook his head. "No, but how are you going to travel the world, see new places?" The expression that came to his face was so full of guilt and horror that I wanted to cry myself, but I'd run out of tears. "What if there's no way you can Beyblade?" he whispered, probably to himself.

I'd almost forgotten about that. "We'll figure it out," I assured him. Geez, and I thought that he was supposed to the the comforting parent; then again, Mom has told me more than once that he wasn't really good about making people feel better about themselves.

Neither of us spoke, awkward tension hanging in the air above us like an approaching storm.

Someone knocked on the door and Mom and Isamu filed into the room, followed by Haruki, Gingka, Madoka, Kenta, Benkei, Kyoya, and two other people I recognized as Yu Tendo and Tsubasa Otori. Dad lifted his head, examined the guests, then went back to sulking.

"It's alright," I told them. "Nothing serious. Just a leg."

"_'Just a leg?_'" Haruki burst. "How could you be so _calm_ about this?" Sending me an apologetic glance, Madoka grabbed her son's arm and squeezed it, as if reminding him not to yell at me - the poor girl with only one leg left. A familiar surge of anger bubbled up in my chest, boiling and churning and increasing the pressure on my already-depressed mind; I hate pity. I balled my hands into fists. I felt like throwing a childish tantrum on the spot, but I was worried how Haruki would take it...

I mentally slapped myself._ Yumiko, this is no time to be thinking about your boy-problems!_ I thought. So instead of throwing a tantrum or mooning over Haruki, I snapped, "Quit treating me like I'm a helpless little baby!"

Most of them recoiled immediately. "Yumiko! Please, stop that right now! You're injured!" Mom said.

"Could you all pipe down?" my father snarled. "She doesn't want your useless pity! It ain't gonna help her back on her feet with a Beyblade!" I really appreciated him coming to my defense; he knew exactly how I felt.

After losing the battle with the evil guy named Nemesis, he gave his Legend Blader Star Fragment to Kenta to help save the world, and L-Drago Destroy F:S disintigrated. He ran away from the island, but it was hard since he had donated most of his energy and power. When he finally came to, he was in the hospital - like me - and everyone was fussing over him. So he escaped, and a couple of years later, L-Drago Guardian descended from the stars - fresh and well-rested - and the two of them became partners, once again. I've always admired my dad for his courage.

Everyone else was quiet. Then, Yu made the dumbest mistake that he ever could've made at the moment. He asked, "Ryuga, are you crying?"

It took the combined strengths of Benkei, Kyoya, Kenta, and Tsubasa to _pry_ my cursing, mad-as-hell father off the Libra-user.

* * *

><p>I was crying as I wrote part of this chapter. Or maybe it was because of my cold. XD<p>

But I couldn't help adding in the last part because I wanted to make myself laugh.


	5. Chapter 5

**DISCLAIMER:**

I don't own Beyblade: Metal Fight.

* * *

><p>I never meant for this to be a long story, guys. Sorry.<p>

* * *

><p>It was a few weeks after I had woken up in the hospital. My parents had an artificial leg placed on me, and it took a long time for me to get used to standing, walking, and running with it. Mom and Dad had cried - mostly happy because I was up and walking again, partly upset because the leg was super-advanced and expensive.<p>

It took a lot of effort, yelling, fighting, and time to get the press to lay off my dilemma. Dad did most of the fighting, though, going as far as to _literally_ dump a news reporter into a public garbage can, and push another one off the steps and into a pile of dog doo.

To avoid the questioning media, I had taken a motel room near the B-Pit so that I could reach Haruki easily and we could train more.

I was just about to embark on my Beyblade journey with Haruki, but of course, we had to say goodbye to everyone. After I had packed my bag and checked out, I had made my way towards Madoka's shop.

At the moment, we were in the middle of an emotional goodbye.

"You two better not try anything funny behind our backs," Gingka warned us. We blushed furiously and avoided each other's eyes. Madoka punched her husband's arm. "Quit teasing them, Gingka." Gingka shot her a serious glance, showing us that he wasn't kidding.

"We're gonna miss you so much, Haruki!" Kenta (I had learned that I was named after him because his last name was Yumiya) said as he and Benkei hugged Haruki, sandwiching him between them. "Can't... breathe..." he gasped. They let go. Benkei was close to tears. "BU-BU-BU-BULL! They grow up so fast!" he sputtered, sniffling and using Kyoya as a teddy bear, something that the Leone-user didn't look so psyched about.

"Benkei, you're getting snot on my arm."

"Sorry, Kyoya!"

Haruki hugged his parents one last time. Madoka double-checked his bag. "You packed fresh underwear, right?" My friend's face turned into a color that almost matched his hair. "MOM!" he yelped. I stifled a giggle as I caught his gaze, embarrassment evident in his eyes.

She kissed him on the cheek. "Update us, 'kay? You have your laptop."

"Sure." Haruki grabbed my arm and started dragging me away. "You heard nothing." I knew that he was referring to the "fresh underwear incident," and decided to play along. "What?" I asked.

He grinned. "You're good."

We walked for several blocks, almost across the entire city, until we reached my house. I packed my stuff into a larger bag and the farewells began.

"Are you sure you're gonna be alright?" Mom asked me. I nodded. "I've got Haruki," I said. "That's what I'm afraid of," Mom grumbled. Haruki blushed. I felt searing heat rush to my face, a feeling that I had grown accustomed to whenever I was around him.

Dad growled and clenched his fists, taking one step towards Haruki. "If you let anything happen to my little girl..." He left the threat hanging in the air, and Haruki grinned nervously. "Don't worry; I'll make sure that she's always safe."

"You'd better." Then, he leaned in closer and whispered something in Haruki's ear. Every now and then, they would glance at me. My friend grinned. "Really?" he yelped. "Shut up!" Dad hissed. They schemed for a couple more minutes, taking the conversation to the front porch steps. Then, they stood up.

"Are we clear?" he asked him sternly.

"Yes, sir!" Haruki nodded enthusiastically, beaming. Then, he gave my father a salute. They shook hands, but I saw the muscles in Dad's arm contract. Haruki's hand paled and he gritted his teeth. When he pulled back, his mouth opened slightly in a soundless wail of pain and massaged his palm and fingers, although he tried to hide it from us.

I fingered Storm Aquario in my pocket and smiled reassuringly. "I'll miss you guys."

"We'll miss you too!" Isamu wailed, clinging onto my artificial leg. My parents hugged me tightly. "You take care, sweetie," Mom said. "I love you."

"I will," I promised, but tripped over a crack in the sidewalk and landed on the ground. "Love you too, Mom," I said lamely. The extra padding on the knees of my jeans prevented any damage to my knees, real and fake. I had taken to wearing full-length jeans so that nobody would question me about my leg.

Haruki's sea-colored eyes twinkled in amusement and helped me up. "Don't be such a klutz, Hasama."

I scowled at him. "I'm not a klutz."

He shrugged, as if saying, "Says you."

Isamu wrapped his arms around my legs, preventing me from taking another step. "Stay!" Mom sighed and pried him off me. "Yumiko has to go, Isamu," she said softly. He started to cry. "I... love you, Yumiko!"

I hugged him, genuinely touched that he cared. "You too, little punk." I started to pull away, but he wouldn't let go.

I embraced my father for the last time. "Love you, Daddy."

He kissed the top of my head. "I love you, Yumi. So much."

We stood there in uncomfortable silence. I wanted to go, but at the same time, I wanted to stay with my family. Haruki looked like he was having doubts about it already, staring at him feet. Before I could change my mind, I darted away, calling over my shoulder, "Race you!"

"No fair; you got a headstart!" Haruki yelled. I heard his footsteps pounding after me.

"Hurry up, and don't you dare come back here until you have at least fifty-thousand Bey points!" my father snapped.

I laughed.

* * *

><p>Do you guys think that I should write a sequel about Yumiko and Haruki's adventures?<p> 


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